


express myself in sculpture

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Butt Dialing, Canon Compliant, College Student Stiles, Dildos, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Taking a sculpting class had been one of the worst decisions of his life.His professor was the worst, even worse than Harris: middle-aged, talentless, and a total homophobe.So when given the final project of using a non-clay medium, Stiles decides to troll his professor by making a bunch of silicone dildos. Duh.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swanofstorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanofstorie/gifts).



> For the prompt: ✥ this sculpting class is the bane of my existence and for the final project (where i’m supposed to use a non-clay medium) i’m going to troll my teacher and make a bunch of silicone dildos. will you donate your dick to my cause? from [this](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/post/148957668780/all-those-sex-toy-prompts-you-probably-didnt-need) list

Taking a sculpting class had been one of the worst decisions of his life.

Worse than when he had wandered into the woods to find a dead body and gotten Scott bitten by an _actual_ , real-life werewolf. Worse than when he had egged on the geriatric psychopath who was holding Erica and Boyd hostage.

Worse than when he had agreed to let the Nogitsune possess him. Well, okay maybe not as worse as that. But still, it fucking sucked.

When he had begun his first semester of college, having fortunately gotten accepted into his first pick of Stanford, he had been informed he would need to take an art class to meet some sort of liberal arts requirement, taking mythology and folklore as a minor. With a choice between sculpting and fine arts, sculpting hand won hands down, Stiles figuring it’d be easier.

He soon came to regret it.

His first clay bowl had turned into a brick and his self portrait bust looked like it had been run over by a bus, and while Stiles’ self image was admittedly low, he knew he didn’t look _that_ bad. But that wasn’t even the start.

His professor was the worst, even worse than Harris. He was a middle aged man, with hair implants and an overabundance of liver spots, who spent his time compensating for his own lack of talent by terrorizing freshmen students who were already scared shitless by the fact that they were in college.

And to top it all off he was a complete homophobe. After he had made a virulently offensive comment about the LGBT community, Stiles had made it his life’s mission to be as flamboyant as humanly possible, flaunting his bisexuality whenever he could.

He started wearing strategically colored outfits that Erica would have smacked him over the head for wearing―once he had worn a purple Hawkeye t-shirt under a bright red flannel with blue jeans and even he had thought it was a hideous outfit―and bought a handful of bi pride shirts just to wear them to class.

One morning when he had arrived to class late after accidentally sleeping in, having helped the pack deal with a harpy back in town the night before, Stiles had fabricated the excuse that the guy he’d taken home had been insatiable and barely let him out of bed. He’d indicated the bruises on his neck from the harpy trying to strangulate him and claimed they were hickeys.

So of course when his professor announced their final project would consist of a non-clay medium, Stiles had instantly known what he was going to make: silicone dildos. Duh.

Of course, then all he needed was a few willing participants who were open to contributing molds of their junk to Stiles’ mission of trolling his professor in the most spectacular of ways.

He went to the pack first, not knowing anyone else enough to ask them if he could make molds of their dicks. And he really didn’t want anyone pressing sexual harassment charges against him.

Scott and Isaac had agreed after a short explanation of Stiles’ plan, disappearing down the hall to the bathroom to stick their dicks in some molding gel. Boyd and Jackson had taken a little more cajoling, Stiles promising to do their laundry for a month if they helped him in his quest.

Peter, on the other hand, hadn’t even let Stiles finish his sentence before he’d some molding gel and disappeared upstairs, more than willing to provide Stiles with a mold of his penis.

Now the only one left was Derek.

“Hey Derek, wanna dedicate your dick to the cause?” Stiles greeted cheerily with a wide grin when Derek returned to the loft after his daily run through the preserve to find Stiles pouring silicone into the molds. Eyebrows almost at his hairline, Derek glanced around the room at the betas lounging on the couch, back to Stiles who was nonchalantly making silicone dildos in the middle of the loft.

Rolling his eyes at Derek’s lack of response, Stiles succinctly explained, “The final for my sculpting is using a non-clay medium to make whatever we want really. And y’know how my professor is a complete, homophobic dick, right?”

Derek nodded, having heard Stiles rant and rave and complain multiple times about said professor. He crossed his arms over his chest and motioned for Stiles to go on.

“Well, I’m gonna make a bunch of dildos for my final project,” Stiles continued. “Everyone else was game. Look―” he grabbed one of the molds and brandished it in the air “―even I made one!”

Derek still looked skeptical but nonetheless said, “Tell me what to do.”

“Kinky,” Peter commented from his seat in the La-Z-Boy, hands folded behind his head as he smirked at his nephew. Both Derek and Stiles turned to glare at him, Stiles sorely tempted to fling a dildo at him, tell him to fetch that.

Grabbing another bag of materials, Stiles turned back to Derek, handing him the plastic bag. Derek looked at it dubiously before meeting Stiles’ eyes again.

Blushing at the fact that he would have to explain the whole process of casting a penis to his boyfriend of five months, Stiles scratched the back of his neck and shakily started, “Uh, well first you gotta get…uh, y’know, hard and ummm, stick your dick in the plastic tube to mark off where you need to cut it. A few inches above the first mark.”

“If you need any help keeping it up, feel free to borrow a cock ring from my collection,” Peter intoned, earning another glare from Derek and a choked squeak from Stiles, who twisted around to gape at Peter.

“Dude, that is sick on so many levels,” Stiles announced, shaking his head as he turned back to Derek. “Yeah, anyway, you measure, mark, and cut the tube then stick the cap on the end. Then you mix warm water with the molding powder and pour it into the tube.”

“And, uh… Then you just…” Stiles trailed off, miming what Derek had to do with his hands. He made a circle with two fingers from one hand and stuck a single finger from his other hand into the circle, crudely indicating how Derek was to insert his penis into the molding gel. “Stick your dick in.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway to the bathroom, bag in hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Stiles turned back to resume pouring the liquid silicone into the already finished molds. He was finishing up Jackson’s mold when Erica nudged him in the back with the tip of her shoe. In a hushed whisper, she claimed, “Y’know, you could’ve volunteered to help him.”

“What do you mean? I told him how to do it. He’s a big boy, he can figure it out,” Stiles replied, furrowing his eyebrows as he peered back over his shoulder at her.

“Oh, I bet he’s a big boy, alright,” Erica snarked, smirking at the bright pink blush that broke out across Stiles’ cheeks. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you…” he trailed off when Erica shook her hand in an imitation of jerking off, waggling her eyebrows at him. Praying Derek hadn’t overheard her suggestive comments, he smacked her hand away and hissed, “Oh my god, shut up!”

Great, now all he could think about was the fact that Derek was most likely jerking off as they spoke.

Shaking himself, he went back to pouring silicone in the last mold, Isaac’s, and trying not to think about the fact that Derek was undoubtedly hard in the other room. He was discreetly doing breathing exercises to keep himself from drooling at the thought when he heard Derek call his name.

Jumping to his feet, worried something terrible must have happened, Stiles abandoned Isaac’s mold and jogged down the hall to the bathroom door. He rapped on the door a few times, not wanting to barge in on Derek balls deep in molding gel, only opening the door when Derek told him to come in.

The cut plastic tube, almost filled with molding gel, was sitting on the bathroom counter as Derek finished tugging his jeans back up. He looked over his shoulder back at Stiles and explained, “I think I need more gel.”

Blushing at the implications of that fact, Stiles tactlessly blurted, “Holy shit―” he paused to compose himself “―uh, yeah, I’ll go grab some more!”

He rushed back to the main room to grab another bag of molding powder, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the betas as he hurried back to the bathroom to give the bag to Derek. After basically flinging the bag at Derek, who effortlessly caught it, Stiles rushed back to the couch, plopping down with his legs crossed to hide the erection tenting his jeans.

Blatantly sniffing around him, Erica smirked, “So? Did you see it?”

“What? No!” Stiles squeaked, elbowing her in the arm. “Oh my god, Erica!”

“What? Like you wouldn’t love to see it,” Erica scoffed, flicking a lock of hair over her shoulder. “Maybe offer to help him out if ya know what I mean.”

“Ugh! You're the worst!” Stiles groaned, slapping his hands over his face as he leaned back against the couch cushions.

“Yeah,” Erica agreed, relaxing into Boyd's arms. “But you love me anyway.”

“Have you guys really not had sex yet?” Isaac asked, peering over Erica and Boyd to look at Stiles.

“No,” Stiles explained. “We’re waiting.”

“For what?” Erica probed.

“I don’t know,” Stiles conceded with a shrug, settling back to watch whatever reality show Scott had put on and try to forget the fact that his boyfriend apparently had some sort of huge monster cock.

A few minutes later, Derek returned to the main room, his cast in hand. He set it on the coffee table beside the other casts before taking a seat beside Stiles on the couch, arm casually draped over the back of the couch. Stiles sat up to grab another canister of liquid silicone, carefully pouring it into Derek’s mold, blushing when he had to use half of a second container.

“Now what?” Derek asked as Stiles leaned back, tilting his head to look down at him.

“We give em twenty four hours to completely set, break open the molds, I bring em in to my professor and get an A,” Stiles concisely explained. “Bing, bang, bong.”

“What are you gonna do with them after that?” Derek inquired, nodding his chin at the molds.

“I dunno,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m sure Erica probably wants Boyd’s and Allison might want Scott and Isaac’s. Peter’ll definitely want to keep his to jerk off to. And Jackson’s so full of himself I’m sure he’ll want his.”

Among the chorus of offended gasps and hysterical laughs, Derek shrugged and relayed, “Can’t really say I want mine.”

Stiles was sure he could figure out what to do with Derek’s. Somehow.

* * *

 

The look on his professor’s face when he turned in his project was easily in the top five of the best things he had ever seen. Right below Derek’s ass and just above Derek’s abs.

True to his word, after receiving his final grade, indeed getting an A, he hand wrapped and delivered all the homemade dildos to their respective models. (He put his grade on the fridge, much to his dad’s chagrin.)

Erica was ecstatic to receive her perfect replica of Boyd’s junk, immediately naming it Not-So-Little Boyd and clearing a space on her desk for it, making Boyd pose for pictures with it a few times first. Allison, who hadn’t been present for the dildo debacle, had flushed brighter than Stiles would have ever thought possible when he dropped off Isaac and Scott’s dildos at the McCalls’.

Jackson had actually full-on laughed when Stiles showed up on his doorstep with a gift bag containing his wrapped dildo, accepting the bag with a wide smirk as he wiped tears out of the corners of his eyes. Peter had looked Stiles up and down when he had answered the door to his apartment downtown, taking the bag from his hand while he invited Stiles in to try it out.

Stiles had never slammed a door shut so fast in his life.

And, since Derek didn't want his, Stiles simply put it next to his own on his bookshelf to collect dust, finding that he couldn't help but compare the two, unable to take his eyes off the clone of his boyfriend's junk.

Proudly standing at a downright impressive height, or rather length, of eight and a half inches―Stiles had measured and everything―it was quite daunting, almost scary. Yet the mere sight of it was enough to send a bolt of heat coiling low in Stiles' belly, a deep blush suffusing his cheeks as he bit his lip.

There was a ring of what appeared to be excess skin gathered behind the head, confirming Stiles' long held suspicion that Derek must be uncircumcised. Ah, the perks of being a born werewolf.

Thick veins zigzagged around the shaft and Stiles couldn't resist wondering if they would throb if he sucked Derek off, wondering how they'd feel on his tongue. He subtly rearranged himself in his pajama pants as he curiously traced a finger over the phony phallus.

Thus, left to his own devices on a Saturday night with his dad at work and a homemade dildo on hand, Stiles was left with quite the moral conundrum: should he or should he not fuck himself with the facsimile of his boyfriend's dick?

Would it be a violation of Derek's trust, and even his privacy, if he did? Would Stiles be a horrible person, a horrible boyfriend, if he did?

In true Stiles fashion he mentally organized a list of pros and cons, hoping to figure out just what the hell to do.

Pros: he could test out his work, see if he did a good job trying his hand at making dildos; he could get himself off, and it was a proven fact that orgasms helped improve sleep which an insomniac like him desperately needed; he could basically practice for when he and Derek finally had sex so he'd be prepared for Derek's actual eight and a half inches.

Cons: he could potentially be taking advantage of Derek's kindness, he'd only agreed to provide a mold of his dick after all, he'd never given Stiles permission to actually use it for sexual gratification; and even worse, he could potentially be added to the seemingly endless list who of people who had violated Derek in some way or another.

After over half an hour of debating with himself over the issue, Stiles finally threw caution to the wind and grabbed the dildo off of his bookshelf and slipped into bed. While drizzling lube over the thick shaft of hand dildo, he steeled himself with the knowledge that Derek would never know. It would be his little secret.

Thoroughly coating his fingers with lube he laid back and started rubbing his index finger over his hole, generously slicking himself. He spent a good long time prepping himself, sprawled out naked on his bed as he started fingering himself with one hand and tweaked his nipples with the other, slowly working his way up to four fingers, more than he'd ever taken before.

When his phone started buzzing on his nightstand just as he was about to nudge the head of the dildo inside of himself, he completely ignored it. He figured it must be Scott texting him to relay the details of his most recent date with Allison and Isaac and while he loved Scott to death he had more pressing matters.

Namely fucking himself full of a perfect replica of Derek's cock, imagining it was his boyfriend shallowly thrusting inside of him. He didn't pick up the next dozen times his phone went off either, thrashing his head back against his pillows as he wantonly moaned Derek's name, carefully sliding the dildo deeper into his ass, slowly adjusting to the impressive length and considerable girth, so much better than his little bullet vibrator.

He experimented with different angles until his wrist began to get sore, nearly blacking out when he twisted his hand and grazed the head of the dildo over his prostate _just so._ Which was why he failed to notice his window sliding open and someone slipping into his room until he was startled by the shocked gasp of his name. "Stiles!"

Screeching in surprise, Stiles did what he did best: flailed and started running his mouth a mile a minute. He scooted back against his headboard, almost whining as the dildo slipped out of him, while clutching his blanket to his chest, staring wide-eyed at the unannounced intruder who was of course none other than Derek. Great.

"Uh, hey. Hey, Derek. What's up, big guy?" Stiles greeted, totally out of breath, for lack of anything better to do. He just hoped someone was dying so they could forget about this whole thing. No harm, no foul.

"I tried calling you, tried texting you but you never answered," Derek choked out, scratching his neck as he looked anywhere but at Stiles. "Pack meeting tonight. Half an hour."

"Oh, yeah. Sure," Stiles nodded, raising his blanket higher up on his chest. "Just gimme a minute and I'll be ready to go."

"Which one?" Derek blurted abruptly, eyes focused on the floor.

"Which one what?" Stiles inquired, tilting his head to the side in question.

"Which one are you using?" Derek reiterated, eyes still cast down to his shoes. "Whose?"

Stiles froze, Derek's meaning suddenly abundantly clear. He chewed his lip while formulating his answer, terrified of upsetting Derek.

"Um, promise you won't be mad?" Stiles said finally, tightening his grip on the edge of his blanket, dreading Derek's answer.

Derek growled under his breath. "You know I can't promise that, Stiles."

"Okay. Yeah, okay. I get that," Stiles conceded. "Promise you won't be mad at me then?"

"Of course," Derek agreed without a moment of hesitation, eyes flicking up meet Stiles' for a second. "I promise I won't be mad at you."

"O-Okay..." Stiles stammered, dropping his eyes to his lap nervously. Reluctantly, he admitted, "Yours."

"Mine?" Derek asked softly, disbelief coloring his voice, sounding oddly unsure. He took a few steps towards the bed, looking tentatively hopeful as he carefully approached. "Really?"

Stiles only nodded, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for Derek to call him disgusting, break up with him, curse him out, tell him to never contact him again. But instead all he heard was the groan of metal springs as he felt the bed dip in the mattress by his and a pair of lips at his ear.

"Fuck, Stiles..." Derek breathed, warm breath billowing over Stiles' sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupted all over his body as he shivered, eyes falling closed. "Can I-Can I see?"

"What?!" Stiles squeaked, whipping his head to the side to look at Derek with wide eyes, completely aghast. Apparently taking Stiles' reaction as a rejection, Derek retreated a few inches, murmuring, "Sorry, sorry. That's weird. I'm sorry."

"No, no! It's okay!" Stiles rushed to reassure him, raising a hand to cup his stubbled cheek. He shyly lowered his eyes to Derek's chest, staring at the buttons on his Henley as he agreed, "Yeah. You can see."

"Yeah?" Derek asked breathlessly, scooting closer. He started pressing soft kiss over the side of Stiles' neck, murmuring against his cool skin, "God, you're amazing."

"Mmmm..." Stiles hummed as Derek inched a little closer, reaching out his hand to stroke his palm over Stiles' smooth porcelain skin. Tilting his head to meet Derek's mouth in a sweet, warm kiss, Stiles released his hold on his blanket to wrap his arms around Derek.

Raking his hand down Stiles' chest, thumbing over his nipple and running his fingers through the thick trail of hair below his navel, Derek mouthed at his jaw and impatiently mumbled, "Can I see, now?"

Biting his lip as his cheeks flushed bright pink at Derek's eagerness, Stiles nodded again and slowly pulled his blanket down, revealing the rest of his naked body and the dildo that was resting on the sheets between his legs, the head resting against his thigh. Derek sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.

Stiles whimpered and turned his head to bury his face in Derek's neck, embarrassed by how naked and vulnerable he was, how desperate and dare he say slutty he looked. Derek chuckled lowly at Stiles' shyness and soothingly caressed his hands over Stiles' shoulders, not wanting him to hide for one second.

"My god, Stiles. You look amazing," Derek observed, boldly trailing his fingers down to tease over the shaft of Stiles' hard cock, nipping at Stiles' jaw.

"Der..." Stiles whined at the teasing touch, nails digging into Derek's back as he squirmed. "Please..."

"C'mon, baby. Wanna see you play with your new toy," Derek urged, scraping his teeth over Stiles' ear lobe. After a moment of thought, Derek corrected himself, "Or better yet, how about I use your new toy on you? Show you how I wanna fuck you later?"

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles readily agreed, letting his head fall back on Derek's shoulder. He was willing to give Derek anything he wanted in that moment: social security number, bank account information, his virginity. All Derek had to do was ask and he'd give it to him.

"But Der..." he mumbled, turning his head to run his nose along Derek's throat, fingers straying to the hem of his shirt. "I-I wanna see you too."

Never one to disappoint, Derek quickly shed his shirt, momentarily extricating himself from Stiles' arms, and undid his jeans, shoving them and his black boxer briefs down to his knees as he kicked his boots off. Stiles couldn't help but draw in a sharp, shaky gasp when he saw Derek's cock, his first time seeing the actual thing, proudly standing straight up from the thatch of dark hair between his thighs.

"Holy fuck," Stiles whispered in pure awe, reaching out to tentatively wrap a hand around Derek's thick shaft. Derek let out a deep groan when Stiles gave a few dry exploratory strokes, curiously running his finger over the head of his cock, toying with Derek's foreskin and dabbing at the  pre-cum beaded at his slit, tracing his knuckles over the veins on the shaft that were indeed throbbing. "Wow."

He ran a finger over Derek's slit, collecting a few drops he spread around the head, smoothed down the shaft to slicken the glide of his hand over his cock. Reaching behind himself, Stiles grabbed the half empty bottle of lube off of his nightstand, pouring a dollop into his hand before curling his hand around Derek again, pumping his hand just to hear Derek grunt his name.

Feeling bolder by the second, Stiles scooped up a drop of pre-cum on the index finger of his free hand, raising it to his mouth to curiously lick it up. It didn't taste much different than his own but the fact that it was Derek's sent another jolt of arousal through him.

"Fuck," Derek groaned, surging forward to kiss Stiles again, lapping the taste of himself off his lips. Tangling his tongue with Stiles', he fumbled to grab the bottle of lube from where Stiles had left it on the comforter, squirting some in his palm to spread over the dildo between Stiles' legs.

He carefully brought the lubed head of the dildo to Stiles' already stretched hole, very gently starting to push it inside him. Preening at the gasp it tore from Stiles' throat, Derek pressed his lips to Stiles' temple and teased, "Yeah? This what you wanted? How's it feel, baby?"

"Oh, god! Feels so good!" Stiles whined, head lolling back on Derek's shoulder. He carefully tightened his grip on Derek's throbbing cock, swiping his thumb over the head. "It's so big!"

"Yeah, baby? You like being filled with this big cock? Like how it stretches your tight, little ass?" Derek asked, gingerly thrusting the dildo deeper into Stiles who nodded his agreement, pumping it in and out of him a few times while eagerly fucking up into Stiles' fist. "Then just imagine how good the real thing'll be."

"Yeah?" Stiles moaned, voice high and lilting, rolling his hips to take the dildo deeper, biting his lip when the head nailed his prostate for a brief second. Turning his head, lips pressed to the corner of Derek's jaw, Stiles questioned, "Gonna fuck me into the mattress, babe?"

"Uh-huh," Derek panted. "Gonna fuck you so hard all you can say is my name. Fuck you so good you'll never think of anyone else but me. Ever."

“Never,” Stiles concurred, spreading his legs wider so Derek could fuck the dildo into him quicker, deeper. He speed up the hand he had on Derek’s cock, running his thumb over his pulled back foreskin. “Only you, Der. Only you.”

“Are you close, baby?” Derek inquired, pressing kisses to Stiles’ chest as he thrust the dildo into him at a new angle, striking his prostate on every thrust. He smirked when Stiles started involuntarily rolling his hips, chasing the delicious sensation. “You gonna come?”

“Yes! Yes, Derek!” Stiles whimpered, quickening the motion of his hand again, wanting Derek to come too, wanting to make his boyfriend feel as good as he was making him feel. “Please, Der. Wanna come.”

“Okay, baby. Okay,” Derek nodded, moving his free hand to Stiles’ hard cock that had thus far been neglected, forming a small puddle of pre-cum where it rested on his belly. Stiles moaned as Derek began stroking him, gently squeezing Derek’s cock, both of them quickly approaching orgasm. “Go ahead. Come for me.”

Like some string holding him up had been cut, the moment the words left Derek’s mouth, Stiles was arching his back and coming all over his stomach, collapsing back against Derek’s side. Derek followed suit a few seconds later, rolling onto his side to empty himself all over Stiles’ belly as well, using his hand to mingle their cum together, soaking their combined scents into his smooth, pale skin.

“Oh my god,” Stiles panted, rolling off of Derek back against his pillows as Derek swirled his fingers through the pool of cum on Stiles’ belly. He whined a little when Derek carefully pulled the dildo out of him, kissing along the curve of his shoulder. “That was _so good!_ ”

“Yeah?” Derek asked softly, settling down beside him, resting his head on the corner of Stiles’ pillow, curling his arm around his chest.

“It was-It was good for you too, right?” Stiles ventured hesitantly, turning to look at Derek with furrowed brows, obviously scared of Derek’s answer.

“Are you kidding me?” Derek pressed his forehead to Stiles’, lips apart by a mere fraction of an inch. “That was amazing, Stiles. Best orgasm of my life.”

“Really?” Stiles raised his eyebrows, incredulous. Derek just nodded with a soft smile, leading Stiles to puff out his chest and boast, “Well, I’m always happy to help.”

Stiles was about to lay his head on Derek’s chest when he bolted upright, pointing out, “Wait! What about the pack meeting? Aren’t we gonna miss it?”

“That’s alright! We’ll be fine without you guy!” A staticky called faintly, seeming out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” Derek questioned, sitting up to rifle through the back pocket of his jeans.

He pulled out his cell phone with a wince just as Erica yelled over the line, “We’ll let you get back to your post-orgasmic bliss!”

“Oh my god, how much did you guys hear?!” Stiles squawked, grabbing his blanket to cover himself despite the fact that the pack was on the other side of town. At least, he hoped they were. He wouldn’t put it past them to be listening from the backyard.

“Everything!” Erica cackled, a chorus of laughter echoing behind her. Derek quickly hung up on her and tossed his phone onto the floor.

“Oh my god!” Stiles whined, rolling over to hide his face in his pillow. “They heard _everything,_ Derek!”

"I know. I'm sorry, baby," Derek mumbled, kissing over his shoulder blades as he laid down on his side beside him, kicking his jeans completely off. He tilted his head to sprinkle kisses down the knobs of Stiles' spine, nipping at the small of his back as he announced, "But, now that we don't have a pack meeting to go to... What d'you say I fuck you for real?"

Stiles nodded and twisted around to pull Derek down into a kiss. Thank god for sculpting class.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel feel to prompt me on [Tumblr!](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
